Hell Begins
by Chi-Chi's Poptart
Summary: The year is 1547. Russia has a new Tsar, Ivan IV. This is the story of how his life spiraled down into horror with this infamous ruler, now known as Ivan the Terrible.


**Yeah, I just got this idea randomly and thought, "I should do this!" and so I did. I love ChibiRussia, but this is kind of a depressing fic about him. Wow, haven't written something serious since my Chibitalia fic.**

 **I don't own Hetalia or Ivan the Terrible. Thank goodness I don't own Ivan the Terrible…... That would suck. I also don't own the coverpic.**

1547 was a great and terrible year for Russia. A new tsar was crowned in Muscovy, and thus it was time for a secret which was closely guarded to be disclosed to this leader.

…

The new tsar was named Ivan Vasilyevich, and though he had been ruling under his mother for some time before, noble families had been claiming that this was illegitimate. Ivan did not care; the important thing was that he was now the ruler.

The nobles regarded him coldly, but faked respect towards him. "Congratulations on your coronation, Tsar Ivan. Your grandfather would be proud," one commended.

"I care not about my grandfather's rule, but only about my own. I will be known as the greatest Tsar in Russian history. I strive not to be like my grandfather, but to outdo him," Ivan replied.

The older nobles inwardly seethed at his attitude, but remained calm on the outside. "I suppose it is time to show him what our kingdom truly is," the females told the other.

Ivan turned his head towards the noble. "There have been secrets you have concealed from me? Now is the time to tell."

"He is rather shy. When he learned of your old habits, he refused to meet you," the male noble said, thinking of Ivan's childhood when he would torture animals. "Perhaps he will, now that you have been crowned. Do you know where he is, sister?"

"I believe he was at the ceremony," she recalled. "Last time I came across him, he was saying good-bye to his sisters. He may have returned to his room."

"Who is this you speak of?" Ivan demanded. "Another noble, such as yourselves?"

"Oh, no, not at all." The siblings shook their heads. "He may be more important than any noble… Perhaps even more than the Tsar! Any Tsar!" They laughed. "Come, we will show him to you."

Ivan followed the two, wondering what on earth they were talking about. If he was displeased with their answer, or if this was a prank, they would have hell to pay. Of course, there was a chance that they were actually showing him something important.

The siblings led him down a hallway and stopped in front of a door. "Little one, don't you think it is time to show yourself to your new ruler?" they called to the person inside.

There was a sound of footsteps outside, and the door creaked open slightly. One big, purple eye peaked out from much closer to the ground than the tsar Ivan. 'It's a child then?' he thought.

"Don't be shy," they chided. "This is the grandson of the Great Tsar Ivan! His name is Ivan as well."

Hesitantly, the child opened the door all the way. He had a strange appearance, no doubt. His hair was silvery white, and his eyes were purple. He appeared to be no older than eight, yet his eyes looked as though he had experience suffering not known at that age.

The child bowed. "It is great honor to meet you, Tsar Ivan. I hope that you will help expand me into a great kingdom," he said.

"What is the meaning of this?" Ivan asked angrily, ignoring the child. "You acted as though you had some great secret that should be the envy of all men, yet all you do is show me a child who looks and acts as though he's been cursed by witches!"

The two nobles concealed their fear and amusement at this outburst. "You may have a different opinion if we show you his true nature. This is our kingdom, Russia. Understandably, you may not believe us at first, but it is true."

"Pathetic lies. Russia is the land, not a person, and even if it was, it could not be a pitiful child. It is a great nation," Ivan growled.

Without warning, the sister pulled a knife out, and cut the child's cheek. He gasped and whimpered, putting a hand to the cut. The brother forced his hand away and showed Ivan the wound, which was already healing.

"Remember how in your youth, you read stories of the Roman gods and marveled at their immortality? Our own country heals from the wounds we inflict upon it. It is much stronger than it seems," the brother said, cruelly.

Ivan wondered at the child's powers, and felt inclined to believe the nobles. "Fascinating. I feel attached to it in a way I did not before," he said, kneeling down in order to be at eye level with the child. He stared at the closing wound on his cheek, greedily. "I think we shall be friends, Russia."

Russia shivered, but nodded. Little did he know, any pain he had felt before from his horrible rulers would not compare to the hell that was yet to come.

…..

Later that year, Russia witnessed Ivan marrying Anastasia. Ivan truly seemed to love her. When he introduced her to Russia, she seemed sweet and smiled at the naive nation. Russia liked her very much. When Ivan was in a rage, she could calm him down with her beauty and kindness.

Throughout the years, Ivan issued many reforms which helped Russia become a stronger nation with better control over his population. The Orthodox Church, which had been threatened by that bully, the Teutonic Knights, became stronger and better organized. Mean old Mongolia was having more trouble getting to Russia.

Ivan tried to get Lithuania, who was very nice, to join Russia's house, but was unfortunately only succeeded in making Lithuania afraid of the larger nation. "You promised you will be friend when I get big enough, da?" Russia said, as he left with his army. "It will not be much longer."

Lithuania shivered as he left. 'I don't like his leader. He is making him too big to manage.'

…

For a while, Russia was proud of his leader, but he soon began to notice his cruelty. Lands were seized and given only to loyal followers, and Ivan's terrible police, dressed in pure black, hurt those who opposed him. Russia felt the pain of his inhabitants and their discomfort. However, he knew that nothing he could say or do would change Ivan's mind, so he merely tried to find things he could take happiness in. However, bad things kept happening to dim his joy.

1560 was among the worst years Russia had ever known. He knew that human life was so short and precious, yet it still hurt when it was gone. Anastasia, the only one who had ever been able to calm Ivan down, was dead.

Russia looked at her cold body, and felt a chill go through him. He murmured good-bye, and tried to forget about her death.

Several months later, Ivan, who had become increasingly more erratic and paranoid since her death, confronted Russia. "Did they do it?" he demanded.

Russia didn't understand. "What are you talking about?"

"Those bastards!" he roared. "The boyars! They killed her, didn't they?! They poisoned her! I know they did! You know they did! Tell me it was them!"

Russia quivered. "I-I don't know…"

Ivan kicked him in the chest, causing him to collapse in pain. "You do know! They killed her! Sons of bitches!" Ivan stormed off, leaving the wheezing Russia on the ground.

"Not more, not more deaths," he muttered.

Soon after, Russia was forced to watch as many of the boyars were tortured and executed. Ivan had never liked them since his youth. It didn't matter if Russia liked them, though. He felt himself become increasingly more distressed as his citizens began fearing the cruel Tsar with a terror more potent than ever before.

…

Ivan married more times after the death of Anastasia, but he was never really happy again. He went through fits of insanity, killing his unborn grandchild by beating its mother, and killing his own son. Russia was frightened of the tsar more that he had once admired.

During the Livonian War, with Poland and Sweden, Russia lost some of his northern territories, and could no longer reach the Baltic Sea.

"It's your fault we lost!" Ivan yelled. "You're pathetic and weak compared to the other ones of your kind, and you deserve to be punished."

Russia soon found out the terrors of solitary confinement hurt more than any other form of punishment. He was starved for any sort of interaction with another. Yet the only one who ever visited was General Winter, who gave Russia physical pain in addition to his loneliness.

Finally, Ivan released him. Russia was no longer the hopeful, naïve country he had once been. No. Russia no longer saw any prospect in his future. His economy was damaged, giving him constant headaches and fevers; his people lived in terror; and he was no longer as proud as he had been at the beginning of Ivan's rule. He looked to be the human age of eleven now, since he had become huge during Ivan's reign, as he had desired, but he had truly learned the meaning of the phrase, "Be careful what you wish for."

Ivan was sick in addition to being more insane than ever. Russia still lived in the same palace as Ivan, but he spent most of his time locked in his room, hardly ever daring to venture outside. His eyes, once bright with anticipation, were dead and dull, and he only came out when his hunger became more than he could bear. Even then, he rarely ate more than a little black bread.

Finally, in March, 1584, it became more terrifying than ever before. Earlier in the month, witches and soothsayers had visited the extremely weak Ivan on his request. Ivan wished them to sustain him, but Russia knew better. It didn't matter what scary people pretending to be magical did; humans' lives don't last forever.

Russia peeked around the corner into the throne room. He was constantly sick and lightheaded these days, and his stomach churned uncomfortably with the terror his citizens were going through, but Ivan was his boss, and it was his job to serve him.

Ivan was pacing back and forth and swearing. He muttered nonsense under his breath: "I can't; can't be me; a little longer, nothing works…"

Russia was very, very, afraid. But he had to know what was going to happen to him. Gathering his courage, he stepped into the room. "Um, Tsar Ivan," he said, bowing, "what are you going to do next with me?"

Ivan turned, and Russia could see an insane light dancing in his eyes. "You!" Ivan exclaimed. "You've never changed! You're immortal! Give it to me! Give me your immortality!" He started stumbling towards the terrified nation.

Russia screamed. "I can't! I can't! Get away from me!" He stepped back, only to bump into a wall. The rational part of him knew that nothing a human could do to him would cause any lasting damage, but the much larger, irrational part didn't consider Ivan to be anything except for a monster.

Ivan approached him, getting closer and closer.

 _I'm dead. I'm going to die. I'm going to die. I'm going to die. I'm going to die._ This thought repeated itself over and over again in Russia's mind. Tears of fright formed in the corner of his eyes.

Ivan was only a few feet away. He reached for the silver-haired child. He collapsed before he could even grab the scarf around his neck.

Russia was snapped out of his stupor and he fled. He fled outside and ran and ran, never stopping until he reached his big sister's house. He wrenched the door open and slammed it shut, locking it behind him. Ukraine looked up from her cabbage soup she was boiling, and Belarus looked up from the doll she was making out of straw.

Russia could hardly breathe and promptly fell unconscious as soon as he was inside. The two sisters regarded him in worry. They had heard that Russia had expanded, yet weakened, but they had not seen him for so long, so they were not sure what to think. They were not doing so well themselves because of their brother.

…

Ukraine allowed him to rest in her house for a little while he recovered, but sent him back after that.

"We're countries and we have to serve our leaders," she reminded him.

Russia nodded mutely. He walked slowly back to the Tsar's palace, not wanting to hurry back. He entered and walked back into the throne room, where he had bolted from not too long ago.

Ivan was dead. Russia tried to feel sad at the news, but the relief of his inhabitants overwhelmed him. However, he could not feel relieved for long.

Horrible rulers who did nothing to help him would continue to rule him for centuries to come. The nation's suffering had only begun.

 **This was hard as hell to write, considering I had to look at historical articles about Ivan the Terrible very frequently. It was worth it to learn some more about Russia, though!**

 **Here's a random thing I wanted to put in, but couldn't find a place. Some people who were Christians of some sort were disobeying Ivan, so he came after them. They rang bells to warn the other Christians he was coming, but he caught them. What he did for their execution was melt the bells they rang, and then pour it down their throats. Yum.**


End file.
